


Exposure

by jtjenna (pornographicpenguin)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bisexual Dean, Bisexuality, Dicking Around, Episode: s09e07 Bad Boys, M/M, Self-Acceptance, bisexuality: a thing that actually exists, canon (i wish), don't let my summary fool you, peniscopter, slightly bitter tags, this is angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pornographicpenguin/pseuds/jtjenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>alternate title:  Dean Winchester's Circlejerk Adventure</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exposure

**Author's Note:**

> this is very old and i am no longer very proud of it, however whenever my teenage-boy friends say "i wanna read some of your fanfiction" and i give them my ao3 they look at my mass of anime fanfiction and one supernatural fanfic and think to themselves, "I KNOW WHAT THAT IS" and leave obnoxious comments on it. and i would much rather they leave obnoxious comments on this than any of the fics i'm actually proud of, so it lives on solely for that purpose. i'm terribly sorry for the eyesore. ;_;

The kid notices Dean glaring over his shoulder, where he can see Ruth scrubbing the table. "Bitch, ain't she?"  
  
Dean tightens his grip on the rake, and scoffs under his breath. "Got that right."  
  
==  
  
Dean digs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The kid is walking too close to him.  
  
"So what's your name?" the kid asks.  
  
Dean focuses on the criss-cross pattern of his shoelaces. Gravel crunches under their feet. "Don't have one?" The kid nudges closer so their shoulder bump together. Dean shoots him a glare. The silence stretches out and refuses to curdle over to awkward. "Mine's Gary."  
  
==  
  
The kid says, "Hey. Wanna play cards?"  
  
The deck lands in Dean's lap. "Not really."  
  
The kid reaches over and snatches them up from Dean's personal space, anyways, and begins to deal a hand. "Rather just sit here and brood?"  
  
Dean shoves down an influx of irritation and sets aside the book he hadn't been reading. "Fine," he says. "What's the game?"  
  
The kid grins and says, "Poker."  
  
==  
  
A branch scratches against the window and Dean Winchester sits straight up in bed. His breathing sounds heavy and rapid even to himself as he shoves his hand into his pocket and tugs out a swiss army knife.  
  
Jaw set, he hunches over the bedpost with a staunch conviction, the sliver of a moon the only light he has to work by. He thinks about the thousand things that could gank him in his sleep.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Dean only twitches in surprise. John had trained that reflex out of him long ago.  
  
A steak of moonlight illuminates the kid's jaw and the spartan dusting of dark hair across it as Dean glances over at him.  
  
"Painting the ceiling," Dean says.  
  
He's got his gaze locked on the sigil he's carving into the first bedpost, but he can hear the eyeroll in the kid's tone. "Right."  
  
The sheets ruffle as the kid lays back down. Dean moves on to the next post.  
  
==  
  
On Sunday afternoons, Dean cleans the inside windows and the kid scrubs the floors.  
  
"What're ya in here for?"  
  
Dean clenches his jaw. The kid just rubs him the wrong way: gets in his personal space and won't stop  _prying_.  
  
"Jacked a Ferarri. Went for a joy ride." A beat-up blue pickup hobbles along on the gravel road outside. He can barely make out the fold of the driver's frown and the shape of his sideburns, from this distance.  
  
Gary snickers. "Sure you did."  
  
"What makes you think I didn't." The truck slips out of his sight.  
  
"Everyone says that," the kid says. "That, or they killed a man." Dean glances back at him. "I've been here a while."  
  
Dean nods.  
  
The bristles of the brush make a  _shk-shk_  sound as the kid scrubs the floor. "So what did you _actually_  do?"  
  
Dean grins. "I killed a man."  
  
==  
  
Dean's only half-kidding when he says he wants to be a rock star, but he'd never thought he would say something that stupidly sincere about cars.  
  
But he jerks away just the smallest amount when Robin leans in to kiss him, and she only manages to snag an off-center peck.  
  
"Have you...kissed many girls?"  
  
"What? Yeah, of course. Lots."  
  
Dean doesn't notice how he tugs on his earlobe until Robin's saying, "Really?" like she wouldn't believe him even if he had managed to pull that off well. "Well, I guess we'll have to keep practicing."  
  
She leans in and kisses him again.  
  
Dean smiles.  
  
==  
  
Dean has always managed to avoid gym, either by simply putting off the credit or not participating when they refused to let him out of it -- and he's never been in a lockeroom before. He keeps his eyes to himself and tries desperately not to make eye contact, not to let his gaze wander.  
  
It's easy to write off the flash of -- something, something he refuses to contemplate up to the point of identifying -- at the hint of well-defined abdominal muscles or the harsh curve collarbone as curiosity.  
  
==  
  
Robin's lessons with him are on Tuesdays, and by the third one, Dean's starting to think it might be okay to look forward to them.  
  
==  
  
Gary is on the wrestling team.  
  
Dean would not have joined the wrestling team if he knew he was going to have to watch the kid...wrestle.  
  
==  
  
Robin's mom decides to take over all the guitar lessons, Sonny tells him. Won't say why: family business.  
  
Dean cancels his.  
  
==  
  
The members of the wrestling team are all horribly familiar with each other. There's laughter and jokes and the sound of running water. Steam fills the air and Dean can't deny that something when on when Gary accidentally brushed a hand over his shoulder.  
  
==  
  
"Sorry your girlfriend ain't comin' back."  
  
On Saturday mornings, Dean rakes leaves and Gary mows the lawn.  
  
"Shut the hell up."  
  
==  
  
"Hey Dean." The kid's got his hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched around his neck. "What's up?"  
  
Dean's behind the barn, fixing a loose plank. He huffs and turns away. "Don't you have work?"  
  
"Finished it," Gary says as he plants himself next to Dean.  
  
Dean snorts. "Go tell that to Ruth," he says, and Gary snickers.  
  
"Yeah," he says, anticlimactically, and falls silent. "I was wondering, uhm."  
  
Dean can hear the tension in his voice. "What?"  
  
Gary leans forward and kisses him, and it explodes in Dean's chest like a damn being blown open. "Have you...kissed many guys before?"  
  
Dean balks and drops the hammer. Gary winces.  
  
"Dude,  _what the fuck?_ "  
  
Gary laughs the most pathetic, wilted laugh Dean has ever heard. "Guess not," he says, and walks away, hands shoved back in his pockets.  
  
A long minute of utter silence strangles Dean with fingers of panic before he kicks the hammer so hard it embeds itself in the ground fifteen feet away. He doesn't feel like his gut is catching fire.  
  
==  
  
"Sorry about Robin cancellin' her lessons and all. I know you liked her."  
  
"What? Oh, oh yeah." Dean grips the menu for Cus's Place a smidgen more tightly. "Robin."  
  
"You know, Dean." Sonny sets the menu down on the table and Dean holds his up higher. "It's okay if you..." he takes a deep breath before he says his next words, and even in the din of the restaurant Dean can hear the blood thumping in his ears. "It's okay if you're into some strange things."  
  
Dean slams the menu down on the table. "I like girls."  
  
Sonny blinks at him in surprise, shakes his head and raises his hands. "Didn't say any different."  
  
Dean raises the menu again. "I like girls."  
  
"It's also okay if you don't just like girls," Sonny says, sympathy dripping off his voice.  
  
"Fuck off," Dean murmurs from behind his thin shield of plastic. Sonny doesn't hear him.  
  
==  
  
Dean lies awake in bed at night and lets his mind flow through Robin: where her neck joins her shoulder, the gentle curve between her breasts and her waist, his hands riding over her hips and hooking in her beltloops, and he's okay. It's when he goes to touch himself, when he lets his mind go, that an Addams apple and the dark trail of hair leading down to a groin slips into his thoughts.  
  
He pulls away like he's been burned.  
  
==  
  
"Dean," Gary says, sliding into the bench next to him, "I just wanted to say that I'm, uh, sorry."  
  
Dean doesn't look at him, just continues to stare down at his food and clench his jaw.  "I just, read the signals wrong, I guess."  He lifts a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, avoiding looking at Dean.  He's probably messing with the curls of loose hair at the nape of his neck, knotting his fingers in them and then running his abnormally long fingers through his dark brown hair from back to front and --  "I...I mean, we're still cool, right?"  
  
Dean turns and punches him in the jaw.  
  
==  
  
"What  _happened_?" is what Sonny asks.  
  
Dean shrugs.  He's sitting on the couch in the front room, his wrists in between his knees.  He won't look Sonny in the eye.  
  
"Look, Dean," he says, and Dean can already feel the irritation rising and shutting out the self-loathing like a cloud rolling over the sun.  "I told you that you could stay here as long as your pops won't take you back, and that still stands, but they're not gonna let me do that if you keep gettin' in fights."  Sonny sits down on the couch next to him.  "You understand."  
  
The bruises around Dean's wrists faded weeks ago.  The only blemish on the property is the one Dean threw over Gary's jaw.  
  
Dean meets Sonny's eyes.  "It won't happen again, sir."  
  
Sonny nods.  "See that it doesn't."  
  
==  
  
"Hey, Gary."  The room is quiet, except for the sound of branches scraping against the windows.  The noise is what's keeping him up, he's certain.  He'll ask Sonny if he can trim the trees this weekend.  
  
The room is so dark he can't see to the foot of his bed, so he only hears the murmured, "Yeah," from off to his left.  Somehow it doesn't surprise Dean that Gary is just as wide-awake as he is.  
  
"Sorry I decked you in the face."  
  
Sheets rustle.  Branches rattle against the glass of the windows and Dean resists the urge to smash them open.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
==  
  
Dean doesn't see Robin too often.  She's a year ahead of him, and they don't have any classes together, nor does she come up to the farm anymore, either -- and with all of those odds stacked against them there's also the fact that Dean is steadfastly avoiding her.  
  
But there's one day he slams his locker door closed and she's standing there.  
  
"Dean," she says.  
  
"Robin," he says.  
  
"Dean," she says, again.  "I mean, hey."  She smiles.  "Uhm, I know it kind of sucks that...I had to stop coming up to the farm.  I've just -- there's been some stuff -- " she cuts herself off.  "Anyway.  I know we had something going and I was --  I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date?"

"Yes," Dean answers in a hurry.  He says, again, more slowly, "Yes."  
  
"Oh," she says, her mouth open in surprise.  "Okay, awesome."  
  
==  
  
The date goes horribly.  Dean's palms are sweaty and he tries too hard to kiss her.  
  
==  
  
"Dean, don't worry," she says, clasping his shoulders as they stand together on the farm's porch.  There's pity wavering in her eyes.  "There's nothing you have to prove to anyone."  
  
==  
  
Dean walks up the stairs with heavy footsteps and a burning behind his eyes.  It feels like the floorboards are going to crack under him, but he doesn't care.  All he cares about is the fact that there's a lump in his throat and even in a place where he should by all rights be  _okay_ , be _good_ , he still manages to find some way to fuck everything up beyond all belief.  
  
Gary is standing in the hall.  "Hey, Dean, how'd your date -- "  
  
Dean grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him into a brutal kiss.  
  
Gary smiles against his lips.  Dean hates himself for how good it feels.  
  
==  
  
"I still like girls," Dean says.  
  
Gary laughs.  "Yeah, sure, of course."  
  
Dean frowns.  "I do."  
  
"Right," he says, grinning like he's humoring Dean.  
  
==  
  
Dean can't deal with that.  
  
The idea of giving up all kinds of normalcy, giving up every shred of what is normal and being a complete and total  _freak_ \-- that's not going to happen.  Dean isn't a fucking  _fag,_  and he's never going to be.  
  
Dean knows it's not going to happen, though.  He's liked girls since he was a kid.  
  
He  _has_ liked girls since he was a kid.  He  _has_.  
  
==  
  
Dean waits until he can hear the breathing of the other boys even out before he lets Gary sneak over -- it's just a foot and a half between their two beds but it's an ocean of difference:  between being normal and being a freak, between girls and boys, between rationalization and acceptance.  
  
But when he's being kissed and there's a chest pressed flat against his there's no contest over what feels undoubtedly  _right._  
  
==  
  
"We should go to the prom together."  
  
Dean laughs.  "No."  
  
"Come on, Dean, it'll be fun."  Dean stops and leans the rake against his shoulder.  "Everyone at school already knows."  
  
" _What?_ "  
  
Gary raises his hands and shakes his head.  "They know, and nobody cares.  It's fine.  We can -- we should go."  
  
Dean takes a deep breath.  "No."  There's adrenalin rushing through him and his heartrate hammers in his ears.  It takes him only a moment to identify the feeling as fear.  
  
Gary says, quietly.  "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Dean."  
  
" _No!"_  
  
==  
  
Gary trails a hand down over Dean's stomach and it feels so good Dean thinks he's going to die.  
  
"Can I --" Gary asks as he toys with the waistband of his underwear, and there's no conceivable response other than to whisper, "Yes," and slam their mouths together.  Their teeth clack and their noses bump but that doesn't matter at all, when Gary's hand wraps around his cock and Dean has to bite into his pillow to keep from making noise.  
  
==  
  
"Go with me?"  
  
"No."  
  
==  
  
"It's no big deal, Dean, it's okay if we go."  
  
"No!"  
  
==  
  
"Please?"  
  
Dean groans.  "If I go, will you fucking  _shut up about it!?_ "  
  
A grin splits Gary's face.  "Of course."  
  
Dean turns away when he finds he can't stop grinning himself.  
  
==  
  
Dean wonders what his dad would say.  
  
==  
  
"I heard you're goin' to the dance with Gary."  
  
Dean's whole body freezes up and he peers at Sonny -- taller than him, larger than him, but also staring down at him with an unexpected gentleness.  
  
"Good job," he says, and slaps Dean hard on the shoulder twice before walking away.  
  
Dean breathes out and tries not to smile like a fool.  
  
==  
  
Maybe, just maybe --  it doesn't matter what his dad would say.  
  
==  
  
"Look, Dean, about that -- your old man's outside."  
  
Dean swallows.  The truth hits him like a brick thrown at his head, and he realizes that maybe -- just for a second, he thought that he might not have to go back.  
  
"You know, when I got out of jail, this place gave me a second chance, and it's done the same for you, too."  Sonny sighs.  "More than that."  
  
Dean nods, and doesn't stop nodding.  
  
"So, if you want, I'll stick my neck out for you, and I'll fight for you to stay."  
  
Dean shakes his head.  "No, I -- "  His voice cracks and he brings up a fist to his mouth.  He doesn't want to go back.  Everything was -- nobody cared, and it was almost okay.  
  
He peers out the window.  Sam's in the back seat.  
  
He's going to go back.  
  
Dean laughs, and it's only half bitter.  
  
"Sonny, thank you -- for everything."  He holds his hand out, and Sonny takes it in a firm shake.  "But I have to go."  
  
Sonny clasps him in a hug, and Dean does not cry.  
  
"I'll break the news to Gary," he says.  
  
Dean shakes his head and bites his lips.  
  
He's going to go back.


End file.
